oh you know that it ain't to bad, but I
by anenemies
Summary: 5 things John Winchester forgot and 1 he remembers


**5 Things John Winchester Forgot and 1 He Remembers**

**1.** John woke up one morning and he realized he couldn't remember the exact shade of blue Mary's eyes were. He could tell you how to kill almost any sort of demon eight ways from Sunday, and that was a whole bunch of new stuff he's had to remember so he supposes it makes sense some stuff gets pushed out of his mind. Still, once he's in the motel bathroom, with the shower running so the boys don't hear, he cries for a bit. Then he goes to wake the boys, because there's hunting to do. And some things he still remembers.

**2. **_Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Dean, Happy Birthday to you. _ Fuck. John backs out of the motel room and closes the door as gentle as he can manage. Then he punches the wall.

**3.** "Dad," John turns his eyes briefly to Sam sitting in the back of the car crowded to the far left on the bench seat by all of the hunting paraphernalia and trash that he keep back there. "Where do babies come from?" _Jesus_! He nearly drove the three of them off the road. Dean was snickering in the passenger seat and for the life of him he couldn't remember ever telling Dean this either. For that matter, how in the hell had he found out? As far as he could tell, all little boys simply learned this by osmosis or something.

"Dad?"

_Goddamnit._

**4. **Damn, but he was sore. It had been a long, hard hunt in Northern Dakota and his back was killing him from where that branch had landed on top of him. All he wanted was to take a long hot shower and a sleep for days. But the kids had school tomorrow and the water pressure sucked in this flea bag motel. It was still nice to be (not)home.

He tried to open the door as quietly as he could but as soon as it was fully open his side was plastered by Sam's coltish thirteen year old body. It had been a while since Sam had been this affectionate, having reached that obstinate stage, but it was...nice. He noted Dean sitting up in bed, a sawed off aimed straight at him and he nodded in recognition, approval flaring up from somewhere in his stomach. Then he noticed that Sam hadn't let go yet and the raggedy collar of Dean's Led Zeppelin shirt was damp in blotches.

"You forgot to call Dad."

**5. ** There was something he was forgetting. It was right there at the tip of his tongue. There was something he was forgetting but he just couldn't put his finger on it. It was driving him nuts. There was that faint itching at the base of his skull, but that had been there since Sammy had... Sam had left. The milk had week before it went off, the full moon was next Tuesday and had just done the laundry. Frustrated, he scowled around the stuffy motel room trying to spot what it was he was missing, when his eye's landed on the clock. Dean was late.  
They had been on more and more separate hunts lately. No particular reason. It just was. Growling he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and noted the handful of missed calls with growing panic. Not stopping to listen to them he waited anxiously as the phone rang once... twice...

"Hello."

"Where the hell are you?"

"I'm in Laurence Dad."

"...Why the hell are you over there, the job was in California."

"I'm at the grave Dad. It's November 2nd."

The dial tone was only slightly less accusing. 

**1.** Silver bullet to the heart for a werewolf. Decapitation for a vampire. Exorcism for a ghost. Blessed iron for a hob goblin. He could recite eight different hymns/banishments in a variety of languages, including, but not limited to, ancient Greek; modern Greek; Latin and Swahili. He _still_ remembered the Elements Song from when Sammy had that '_really important test_'.

He could remember the exact colour of Dean's eyes, and how Bobby's baseball caps should be ordered in the closet. He knew precisely where Sam had been every second he had been gone, some of it because of that tracking spell he bought, and some of it he just _knew_. He knows that Ellen's hands are smooth but callused, and her right ring finger was crooked from when she'd broken it. He can picture all sorts of things in his head with absolute, excruciating detail. From the time Dean first got hurt (_ohgodohgodohgod_) to when Sam walked out that motel door (_If you leave you ain't coming back_).

But now, as he lies here, sure for the first time that he was going to die die dying. All he can remember is Mary's hair, long and gold, spread out like a halo on the blanket he used to spread out in the back of his truck. That honeysuckle smell of that hair and how warm it was that day, laying in the bed of his truck with absolutely no where to go.

Not a bad thing to remember really. Not bad at all.


End file.
